Village Midwife, Blushing Bride

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Village Midwife, Blushing Bride Page 7

by Gill Sanderson


  ‘Well, thank goodness for that,’ she said with a nervous laugh. ‘Otherwise I’d be really embarrassing myself.’

  ‘You could just stop,’ he suggested.

  Zoe shook her head determinedly. ‘That’s not my way. What I’m going to say might sound conceited, and forward, and completely jumping the gun, but we need to get it out in the open. I—’

  ‘Zoe, if you’re about to make a pass at me, I think you should know that—’

  ‘I’m not!’ She stared at him, utterly shocked.

  ‘Then I’m the one who’s embarrassed. I’d better go.’

  ‘I was going to warn you off making a pass at me!’

  They stared at each other in the roseate light. This time the silence was horrible.

  ‘You can’t blame me for thinking you might,’ burst out Zoe. ‘We’re becoming friends, you’ve babysat my son, we’ve shared a meal. I just didn’t want you to think it might lead somewhere.’ But looking at him now, impersonal and distant, she didn’t see how she could have imagined any such thing.

  ‘I know it won’t lead anywhere for me,’ he said quietly. ‘I’m curious, though. Why won’t it on your part?’

  Zoe lifted her coffee mug to her lips, let the warmth dispel the solid embarrassment inside her. ‘I was in love with Neil when I married him. He was very charismatic, a real live wire. When I was with him it was like being on a permanent holiday. I realise now that my feelings were partly reaction from having looked after Mum for so long and being free at last. I’m not excusing, I’m not complaining, I’m just saying that we were genuinely in love. We were still in love when we had Jamie. And then…then I realised that Neil couldn’t slow down. He didn’t know how to and he didn’t want to. He drank far too much, but wouldn’t admit that he had a problem. He was drunk when he crashed the car.’

  Connor’s hand brushed hers. ‘I’m sorry. But all men aren’t like that, you know.’

  She looked at him, dry-eyed. ‘He was bringing Jamie home from a birthday party. Jamie had nightmares for ages. Sometimes he still does.’

  ‘Oh, no.’ The words were an appalled whisper.

  ‘Neil promised he’d never drink when Jamie was around. He lied. I’m never going to compromise my son’s safety again, Connor. Never, ever. And that means I doubt I’ll ever trust a man not to let me—or Jamie—down again.’

  They finished their coffee as the sun finally melted along the horizon. Connor stood up and just touched Zoe’s cheek for a moment. ‘Don’t brood tonight,’ he said. ‘Think about whatever good you did today instead.’

  She closed her eyes for a moment and, unbidden, the images of two men came into her mind. Neil and Connor; she thought of them side by side. Two totally different men. When first she had known him, Neil had swept her off her feet. He was outgoing, noisy, the life and soul of every party; she had loved every minute of being with him in those early days. Connor was quieter, but just as charismatic in his way. She remembered a phrase once used by a consultant she had worked for. Connor was better grounded than Neil.

  The memory of what Neil had been at the end came back; he had changed so much. Perhaps Connor could change too. It saddened her, but stiffened her resolution.

  She walked with him to the gate. The night sky was beautiful, hints of green in the blue. That was something she had never seen in London. ‘There’s a star,’ she said, pointing. ‘Just one, bright in the sky.’

  He looked up. ‘It’s called the Evening Star, but really it’s the planet Venus, not a star at all.’

  Venus. The goddess of love. Well, she was out of luck tonight. She might have two single people—already attracted—in her sights, but there would be no romantic outcome.

  Wait a minute! Zoe’s mind back-tracked. ‘How do you know it won’t lead anywhere?’

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘You said you knew that whatever isn’t between us wouldn’t lead anywhere. What makes you so sure?’

  Connor’s voice was remote. ‘Because I got burned once as well—very badly. It makes you fear the fire. And I suspect neither of us is interested in casual affairs. I’m certainly not.’

  Zoe shuddered. ‘Nor me. I don’t see how an affair can be casual.’

  ‘So—just friends then.’

  ‘Just friends.’

  They touched hands by mistake, both reaching for the gate. ‘See?’ said Connor. ‘No spark.’

  Warmth burned to the very core of her. A bespoke lightning conductor couldn’t have provided a better channel.

  ‘No spark,’ she agreed, knowing that it was as far from the truth as it was possible to get.

  Chapter Five

  ‘YOU’LL like Baby Clinic,’ Jo had said confidently in the staff lounge. ‘It’s fun.’

  ‘Assuming your definition of fun includes temporary deafness and finding toys in every plant pot for the next week,’ murmured Connor as he helped himself to coffee.

  One of the younger female doctors dropped her cup with a muffled exclamation. Zoe concluded that Connor wasn’t famed for making jokes at work.

  ‘It is fun,’ insisted Jo. ‘All mothers enjoy exchanging horror stories about how dreadful their latest arrivals are. And it’s much better for new mums to have their post-natal check-ups here where they can feel part of a group rather than at home where they’ll brood about being isolated.’

  Looking around the lively group—many of the parents had brought their older children, who were running around the waiting room, scattering the toys all over the floor—Zoe had to give her friend credit. ‘It would be difficult to feel isolated in this lot,’ she said to the district nurse attached to the practice.

  ‘That’s the idea! Right, I’ll weigh the babies, you check over the new mothers, and Dr Maitland is the duty doctor if either of us have problems.’

  Zoe thoroughly enjoyed her morning. Being an ex-midwife, Jo had firm views on the amount of work that could be accomplished safely and happily in the allocated time, so there was no mad rush of patients. Zoe managed a sociable word with most of the women she met. But more than the sense of a job well done was a feeling of belonging. Her questions to the mums weren’t a one-way street. There was friendly curiosity from them too, personal questions. Zoe realised that if she was to become part of the community she had to give them something of herself. That was fine by her—with reservations.

  A couple of times she buzzed Connor for advice, and couldn’t help tingling when she talked to him. Had they really said all that last night? Had she really been so blushingly frank? He had left quite quickly after they had come to their agreement—if agreement it was. He hadn’t seemed embarrassed in the staff room first thing, but she was coming to realise that he was a master at concealing his feelings.

  What did astonish her was when a pale young woman was ushered into the clinic by a beaming Jo. ‘Barbara Reagan has just signed back on with us,’ said her friend, not quite keeping the satisfaction out of her voice. ‘I’ll get her notes transferred across, but can you just check her over in the meantime?’

  ‘I did what you suggested,’ said Barbara, her voice surprisingly determined. ‘When Roy came in I told him that I wanted to re-register at the Centre. We had an argument; he got angry and said he was going back to the pub. I told him I’d been thinking of our trip to Filey and that I needed to remember happier days. He was really taken aback. I don’t think he realised I was properly unhappy. Then he saw I wasn’t crying, that I was calm and…well, we had a bit of a talk, and he agreed.’

  ‘That’s brilliant! I’d like you and the little girls to have a full check-up, if that’s all right? Which doctor did you used to see?’

  ‘Whoever was handy. But I liked Dr Maitland. When I was first pregnant and a bit doubtful about things, he told me how lucky I was to be having a baby and that made me feel a lot better.’

  ‘That was nice of him.’ Zoe tucked the snippet into the store of things she was learning about Connor. ‘He’s the duty doctor this morning. Would you like to
see him now instead of making a regular appointment?’

  ‘That would be great. It’s a bit of a struggle getting out with both the kids.’

  ‘Right. Pop back out to the waiting room and catch up with the other mums—I’ll find out when Dr Maitland is free.’ Pausing only to check with Jo that she didn’t mind Zoe telling Connor about visiting Barbara last night, she sped upstairs to his consulting room.

  Connor listened impassively, shutting off all signs of emotion as she told him about Barbara, her children and her husband. She had no idea whether he felt sympathy or irritation, or what he thought of her part in the story. It was very offputting. She hoped he was more approachable with his patients.

  When she had finished he looked at her steadily. ‘You do know that severe cases of baby blues can lead to suicide?’

  ‘I’d be a pretty poor midwife not to.’

  ‘And that if there is even the smallest suggestion of that, our duty is to inform the authorities?’

  Zoe felt herself growing angry. ‘Yes, I know. Yes, of course I would inform them, no matter how accidentally I came to be there. In my professional opinion, Dr Maitland, what Barbara Reagan is suffering from is having two babies a year apart and an unsympathetic husband.’

  ‘I had to ask, Zoe.’

  For some reason this made her even crosser. ‘No, you didn’t. You could have trusted my judgement, seen Barbara and her little girls and then had a case consultation afterwards.’

  He remained cool. ‘It wasn’t personal. I would have asked any of my colleagues the same question.’

  ‘Then you should have more faith in us. Will you come down and see Barbara now?’ She was being as crisp as he was. That wasn’t like her. She moved to the door, not asking herself why she should be so hurt.

  For the rest of the day, Connor couldn’t shake off the feeling that Zoe was disappointed in him. But that was crazy. He was a fully qualified doctor; he had to look out for the interests of the practice and he’d only known Zoe a few days. She’d been dead right about Barbara Reagan, though. Was he going to have to apologise? With the thought came a knock on his kitchen door.

  Jamie stood on the path, smiling confidently at him. ‘Hello, Uncle Connor. Can I play on your swings, please? Mummy says I must ask.’

  And there was Zoe, standing a little way behind him, her expression a study in mingled pride and awkwardness.

  ‘Of course you can,’ said Connor. He kept a straight face. ‘It was very polite of you to enquire this first time but, from now on, you can use the play dell whenever you like.’

  ‘Told you,’ yelled Jamie to his mother, and tore off down the path.

  Connor fell into step with Zoe as she followed her son. She’d changed into a summer dress of pale lemon cotton. ‘You look nice and cool,’ he said. ‘That suits you.’

  There was just the tiniest pause before she replied. ‘Thank you. And thank you for giving Jamie the run of the play area. We’ll only be an hour. He just needs to let off steam a bit.’

  He didn’t like hearing the reservation in her voice. To his surprise, he realised that, whilst he could brush off other people’s niggles with him, he wanted to make things right with her. ‘Stay as long as you like,’ he said gruffly. ‘It was lovely seeing him enjoy himself in my garden yesterday.’

  She gave a small smile, unbending a little. ‘You may regret that. I don’t know where he gets his energy from—he’s always up at dawn, raring to go. I suppose he must be really good at school, bottling it all up until he can get home again. If ever we get to be a nuisance, just say. If you want to be quiet or if you’re entertaining…’

  ‘I don’t do entertaining.’

  She turned a frowning face to him. ‘Why not?’

  Zoe Hilton: asker of hard questions. ‘I spent a year being prodded, poked, tested and interrogated. I was a case, not a person. I certainly wasn’t a person with rights. So I don’t want anyone invading my space again.’ Even to his own ears, his voice sounded harsh. He’d blown it. Zoe would now grab her son’s hand and exit the garden with all speed.

  Instead, she sighed. ‘You are one contrary man, Connor Maitland.’

  She hadn’t run off. Connor could hardly believe it. ‘Wanting privacy is contrary?’

  ‘No. Shutting everyone out at work—and opening up to me at home is contrary.’

  He shrugged. ‘I’m on my own ground here. Maybe that makes the difference.’

  She considered him with those wide, thoughtful eyes. ‘Why isn’t the Medical Centre your own ground? You’ve spent nine years training for it. You laid down the law fast enough this morning. You walked through that Theatre as if you owned it on my first day here. I don’t understand.’

  Connor felt as if his mind had suddenly been laid bare. With one statement she’d pinpointed his innermost dilemma, and it felt awful. ‘Because…because…’ His chest hurt. He could hear his breath tearing. What was she wrenching from him? He looked away, fixed his eyes on the hills beyond his garden. ‘Because I remember how things used to be,’ he said roughly. ‘Because GP work has endless threads, whereas surgery is clean and clear-cut and I was very good at it.’

  ‘You’re a good doctor. Everybody says so.’

  ‘But I’m not the best,’ he ground out, still keeping his eyes fixed on the tree line, the thin zigzag path leading to the summit. He’d rather be pounding up that track right now than answering these questions. ‘And other things are wrong and I can’t fix them.’

  ‘For instance?’

  ‘For instance, in the hospital I saw a patient of mine who isn’t getting better. Percy Spenloe is eighty-six. I recommended him for the heart bypass operation. I pulled strings to get him on the fast track. I’m damn sure if I’d done the op he’d have been home by now. But he’s not thriving! I’m irritating the hell out of the consultant by suggesting tests when he’s done them all already and they’ve come back negative. I feel so frustrated!’

  ‘Well, I think that’s reasonable,’ said Zoe. ‘It’s part of human nature to think we’re better than the next person when it comes to our own speciality.’ Her brow wrinkled. ‘Spenloe…It’s an unusual name. Any relation to Karen Spenloe? Twenty-five weeks pregnant with her fourth child—her middle girl is in Jamie’s class—I saw her earlier in the week.’

  ‘Yes, she’s one of my patients. Percy’s granddaughter-in-law. She told me all her babies have popped out like shelling peas and she wanted a home birth for this one, despite the fact that there’s no room in that house to swing a kettle, let alone clear a dedicated birth space. How she and her husband ever find the privacy to procreate is a complete mystery to me. Every time I went to visit Percy I was tripping over children, toys or puppies at every step.’

  She grinned, but there was still that serious wrinkle across her forehead. Connor found himself fascinated by it. ‘That’s interesting. When she saw me, Karen was adamant that she only wants to be in the maternity unit for the minimum time to have her next baby. “In, give birth, quick cuppa and home again,” was how she put it. Said she’d worry what the family was getting up to without her, otherwise. And Percy lives with them?’

  ‘Everyone lives with them! Karen and her husband, the kids, a couple of cousins, her mother, his father and Grandpa Percy too. I think there’s even a stray aunt tucked into the broom cupboard.’

  Zoe chuckled. ‘I’ll bet that makes visiting time at the hospital interesting.’

  Connor groaned. ‘Tell me about it. I had my ear bent by the ward sister yesterday. The Spenloes take over the place, sitting on the unused beds, bringing Percy unsuitable things to eat, turning the patients’ TVs on for them, wrecking the radio headsets. The only reason they don’t get thrown out is that Percy brightens up when they’re there.’ He slammed his fist into his palm. ‘There has to be something we’ve all missed. I’ll get them to do the tests again, no matter how unpopular it makes me. If only I was on the spot all the time! I’m sure I’d…’

  To his astonishment, Zoe put her
finger on his lips. ‘You know your trouble? You’re thinking like a surgeon. That worked to get Percy in there—you have the knowledge and the clout that saved his life. But in order to keep his life, you need to think like a GP.’

  He stared at her. Think like a GP? What did she mean? But…but he did dimly see. A GP had access to the patient’s life. A GP looked at the whole person, not just the narrow ramifications of the operation in question.

  Zoe’s eyes were bright. Her half-smile told him that he knew the answer really; all he had to do was fetch it forth from his brain. He had to let go of his anger and think.

  ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake,’ he said softly, every muscle still. ‘Are you telling me Percy is homesick?’

  The smile became full and beaming. ‘Me? I’ve never even met him. You’re his doctor.’

  Connor looked at his watch, already fumbling his mobile out of his pocket and flipping it open. ‘Just time. The consultant will still be there. I’ll spring Percy for the weekend and he can go back on Monday or Tuesday for a check-up.’ He dropped a distracted kiss on her hair. ‘Thanks, Zoe, I owe you one.’

  Zoe didn’t see Connor again all weekend. This, she told herself, was a Very Good Thing. It gave her time to organise that thank you kiss into the back of her mind where it belonged. It would have been nice to forget it completely, but she couldn’t quite manage that. The soft press of his lips against her hair, allied to the joy at potentially solving his problem and the speed with which he wanted to put that solution into action were all bound together into a jubilant memory. He’d been so different from the way he was in the surgery. She’d had a tiny flash that this was how he was supposed to be. She felt she was getting to know him. How could she want to forget that?

  Saturday was spent with Jo and her family, which was lovely. The only awkward moment was when Jamie talked about ‘Uncle Connor’s’ playground.

 

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